The Tel Aviv Flight – Part 2

I woke up with a start due to the constant ringing of my phone. It was 10 AM, my head was throbbing, and all my flatmates already left for work. It took me several minutes to realise where I was and remember what just happened the previous night. There was almost a dozen missed calls from the office. I hurriedly called back and was told that the Head Office was quite upset that I did not travel for this critical meeting with a prestigious client.

They were trying to make alternative travel arrangements for me as it was impossible for someone else to travel at such a short notice with all the restrictions and I should get ready and await further updates. By around midday I learnt that I was booked on the Singapore-Chennai-Mumbai flight in the evening to connect to the Mumbai-Tel Aviv flight past midnight India time.

The check-in was less dramatic this time around, but the flight was delayed for over an hour after boarding due to a technical problem thus setting my heart racing again. Landed in Mumbai around 9 PM local time, after a brief stopover in Chennai, cleared immigration, collected my luggage, and queued up for the customs check. I had to come out of the airport and check-in again because the tickets for the next leg were issued locally and I did not have them in hand. My sales colleague who was scheduled to travel on the same flight was waiting outside. Electronic tickets were still unheard of.

The customs check was a nightmare with the officer refusing to clear my suitcase with the computer. He refused to relent even though it was an older computer and me showing various papers: The Client invitation letters, company letters authorising me to carry the computer, my return flight tickets to Singapore and even asking to endorse it on my passport.

After a lot of pleading, he let me go and see his superior in his office; a sight to behold in itself. There sat a 30-ish Assistant Commissioner of Customs holding court of several swooning subordinates. I quickly explained the issue and requested his help. It was hard for him to believe that an Indian passport holder traveling from Singapore to Gaza strip via Mumbai on a non-existing ticket with a computer in a suitcase to make a presentation to the UN Agency was genuine. He would not budge.

By then I was at the end of my tether and told him in a raised voice that I would make him pay the price if I missed the flight again. He got annoyed that I would question his authority in front of his courtiers and snapped, “are you threatening a public official?”. Having crossed the line already, I replied with barely concealed anger, “No sir. I am just begging for your help. I already missed flight once and my job would be in danger if I missed even this last chance to fly. Once I lose my job, I would not forget that you refused to help despite being in a position of authority to do so. The choice is yours”.

He stared at me for few minutes, summoned one of his constables and told him in Marathi to accompany me until I reach the next flight counter, check-in, and hand over the luggage to the airlines. Any deviations or attempts to smuggle the computer into India, I should be dragged back to the police.

Sahar international airport terminal was hard to navigate amidst the ongoing construction work, but I managed to find my colleague, who was concerned with all the delays. He handed me the tickets and we both ran towards the departure counters.

Much later my colleague would tell me how absurdly comical it was to see me running across the terminal pushing the luggage trolley, wearing a blazer and tie with sweat streaming down my face and a constable in uniform chasing me. He would burst in laughter saying that it looked either a B-Grade Bollywood movie filing or a small time Bombay Gangster trying to flee to Dubai was being chased.

My troubles did not end there. I was booked on the Israeli airline, El-Al, which follows one of the world’s toughest security protocols. I went through the whole questionnaire and just before het let me through he noticed the Emirates airline stickers on the suitcase and got concerned. I had to go through the last 24-hour story all over again and why this trip was so critical for my career.

Boarded a bus that took us to a remote parking bay where the aircraft stood guarded by armed policemen and security agents. Once in the seat, I soon fell asleep and do not even remember when the flight took off or the food served only to wake up to a chilly morning at the Ben Gurion International airport in Tel Aviv.